


Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)

by ohnoscarlett



Series: Pretty Baby [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, girl!Brendon, girl!Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-16
Updated: 2008-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 14:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10923810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoscarlett/pseuds/ohnoscarlett
Summary: Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants.  Pretty much.  Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[tuesdaysgone](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

**TITLE:** Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)  
 **AUTHOR:** Cara ([](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ohnoscarlett**](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/) )  
 **RATING:** NC-17. There’s sex, folks. _Sex._  
 **PAIRING, IF ANY:** main, Spencer/Ryan; also, Jon/Bren  
 **POV:** third person limited (focus on Ryan)  
 **SUMMARY:** Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** This is a work of fiction. _Obviously._  
 **NOTES:** Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[**tuesdaysgone**](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

  
“Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)”  
\- Tom Waits, Long Way Home

Ryan and Bren sat at the sunny table on the bus, and Ryan listened--mostly--as Bren prattled merrily on about this and that.  
  
"Are you listening, Georgina?" Ryan scowled. She hated being reminded that Ryan was not her given name. Not what she saw on her driver's license. Not what she found on her birth certificate.  
  
  
 _"Georgina Rhiannon," her mother, long before her disappearing act. Ryan was five and already disgusted by the misguided attempt to curry favor with her father due to the fact that she wasn't born the boy they were promised. "Is there something you would prefer?"  
  
She had been Ryan ever since._  
  
  
Spence lounged on the sofa reading a book. Or at least pretending to read. Ryan could hear Jon rummaging around in the back by their bunks.  
  
"And then he fucked me up the ass!" Bren crowed.  
  
Ryan and Spencer simultaneously squawked. " _What?_ " and "Jesus Christ, Bren!"  
  
"I knew you weren't paying attention to me anymore," Bren pouted. Spencer slapped his book shut and stomped over to where Ryan and Bren sat.  
  
"You," he glared at Bren, "have got to stop scaring Ryan with your--your _sex talk_ , and stories about Jon's..." He scoffed.  
  
"Ryan's a big girl."  
  
"I know that, Brenda. But not everyone wants the color commentary. We hear enough as it is." Spence tugged Ryan's arm until she stood and steered her toward the back.  
  
"You're just jealous, Smith," mumbled Bren into the space where Ryan had been sitting. Spencer paused.  
  
"Of you and Jon? Not likely." He continued, pushing Ryan gently with a hand at her back. Then, softly, he said, "Mine's bigger anyway."  
  
Ryan pinched him. Hard.  
  
They passed Jon coming out from the bunks, twirling a flip flop around one finger and grinning. He glanced down pointedly at Spencer’s crotch.

“You wish.”

“Fuck you, Jon.”

“Like I said: _you wish_.”

Ryan stifled her giggles behind her hand. Jon continued on, nonplussed.

Ryan climbed into Spencer’s bunk, not her own, and dragged him in after her. She was little, and he was mostly legs anyway, so it was doable. She sat back and thumped her head against the wall with a sigh.

“ _Spence_ ,” she said, all breath. He froze. “Spence, why—why do I… why can’t I just,” she sighed again. “ _Issues_.” Spencer considered her for a moment.

“Not everyone has to be a giant slut like Bren,” he said shortly. Ryan snorted.

“Bren’s not a slut. It’s just _Jon_.”

“Yeah, but they fuck like bunnies.”

“Don’t we know it.” Spence and Ryan nodded silently together in the darkness.

“It’s not like you’re 35 or something and still a virgin,” Spencer said later. “You’re still young yet.”

“I’m older than _you_ ,” Ryan muttered sullenly.

“Still. Plenty of time.” Ryan found his hand and squeezed it. Spencer’s blood ran cold.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Ryan asked quietly. Spencer’s heart stopped. He swore it did. _Was she trying to kill him?_ “Here, I mean. Can I sleep here?”

“Sure.” The word barely escaped his mouth. He could taste it. He would sleep with Ryan whenever she wanted him to. She slid out of his bunk without another word.

***

Spencer woke in the dark with the scent of lavender and vanilla surrounding him. Ryan’s head was tucked into his shoulder and she lay curled tightly into his body. She had waited until he was asleep to climb into his bunk, even though she knew she could. He had given her permission. But she was like that. She would find a way to make sure he wouldn’t change his mind. Make sure he wouldn’t say no. As if he would.

Spencer lay in the dark with Ryan in his arms and wondered. _Did she know? Did she know what she did to him?_ They had been best friends for years, and she knew everything about him. He knew everything about her. She was brilliant and beautiful and insecure. She was strangely funny in a dry sort of way. And she had issues with men; her father saw to that.

Spencer watched as Ryan’s features emerged as his eyes adjusted to the light. She was lovely. He had always thought she was lovely. Ryan took pains to negate it, with paint, and strangely androgynous clothes, and that hair. But it shone through anyway. Her wide honey amber eyes; her lush pink mouth. The awkward angles of too-long arms and legs only enhanced it. She was beautiful, and Spence adored her.

Ryan shifted in her sleep and slipped a thin arm around Spencer’s waist. He smiled wanly and laid his cheek on the top of her head, daring to press a kiss to her temple. She was fast asleep; he was safe. Ryan had no idea of the attention and raw affection lavished on her when no one else was looking. He meant to keep it that way. Ryan was his best friend and she loved him.

He meant to keep it that way.

He wasn’t about to lose her just because she hadn’t fallen in love with him. Just because he had somehow fallen in love with her along the way.

[PART 2](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9140.html#cutid1)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[tuesdaysgone](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

**TITLE:** Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)  
 **AUTHOR:** Cara ([](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ohnoscarlett**](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/) )  
 **RATING:** NC-17. There’s sex, folks. _Sex._  
 **PAIRING, IF ANY:** main, Spencer/Ryan; also, Jon/Bren  
 **POV:** third person limited (focus on Ryan)  
 **SUMMARY:** Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** This is a work of fiction. _Obviously._  
 **NOTES:** Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[**tuesdaysgone**](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

 

“Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)”  
\- Tom Waits, Long Way Home

[PART 1](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/8707.html#cutid1)

  
Ryan was squinting at Spencer when he woke up again. Light was filtering dimly through the curtain, and Ryan looked like she was trying to figure out the answer to some puzzle she had been muddling about in her head. Like it was written on the back of Spencer’s eyelids, on his skin somewhere. He rubbed blearily at his face, trying to wake up enough to acknowledge Ryan’s presence aloud, and wishing he had a girlfriend so he had an excuse to refuse her his bed.

Spencer had almost opened his mouth to say that to Ryan, really say it to her, when she spoke instead.

“I think it should be you.”

“ _Huh?” Eloquent._ Ryan was the one with the gift of words. She didn’t seem to be using it any more than Spence was, though. She still squinted at him. Appraising him. Considering.

“I think it should be you,” she said again. As if the meaning was clearer the second time.

“I gathered that. But _what?_ You’re being obtuse.” Ryan scowled at that. She didn’t like being misunderstood. It’s why people’s interpretations of her lyrics made her crazy. _Was she not being perfectly clear?_

Ryan took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she looked Spencer fully in the eye, then dropped her gaze quickly so her lashes fluttered darkly against the pale skin of her cheeks. _What the hell? Was she being coy?_ Ryan slowly raised her eyes to Spencer’s again.

“I think you should sleep with me.”

“I’m sorry, _what?_ ”

“Now who’s being obtuse?” Ryan rolled her eyes, but smiled indulgently. She slipped her arm around Spencer’s waist again, like she had in her sleep. But this time he could feel her slender fingers sliding under the hem of his shirt. The callouses on her fingers pressing into his skin.

Spencer didn’t move; he didn’t even twitch. Ryan leaned in close, he could feel her breath as she paused, hesitated. Then she kissed him.

Spencer had had a stroke. That was the only reason he could think of. He was paralyzed and couldn’t voluntarily move a single muscle. That was why he didn’t kiss Ryan back.

But then he flailed.

For real.

A jolt of arms and legs that threw off Ryan’s touch and quite nearly tossed Ryan out of the bunk. She clung to the edge and gaped at him.

“What the _fuck_ , Ry?”

“Spence, I—“ He shook off the hand she placed on his arm.

“No.” Ryan simply looked at him. Spencer shook his head, trying to get the blood flowing, trying to get his mouth working. “No,” he said again.

“But I thought—“

“What _did_ you think?”

“I thought that my best friend could help me out with a problem,” Ryan said hurriedly.

“ _’A problem?’_ ” Spencer hissed. “It’s not a _problem_ , Ryan. You think just doing it is going to make everything alright?” Spencer paused for breath, his heart skittering in his chest like a caged animal. “You don’t even love me,” he added softly.

“What does love have to do with anything?” Ryan hissed in return. Spence turned his face into the pillow.

“Everything,” he said. “ _Everything._ ”

Ryan growled and flung open the curtain.

“If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.”

Spencer merely closed his eyes and pressed his nose further into the pillow.

***  
Spencer didn't emerge from his bunk until the bus stopped, and even then, Ryan was avoiding him. But of all the places they could be, they were in Chicago. _Of course._ Jon was giddy with it, and Bren--well, apart from being her usual manic self, she was feeding off his energy. They were well nigh insufferable. The giggling, the squealing. Jon was making lists. Spencer just wanted to get away. He could not get into the hotel fast enough. He needed to be alone for real.  
  
They had three rooms at hotels. They had been getting three rooms since Jon joined them; no longer "boys' room" and "girls' room". Bren had pursued Jon for months before she and Ryan and Spence had asked him to join them, their band, replace Brent. Jon was just a natural fit. He and Bren just clicked--once he figured out her strange sugar-fueled flirting was what it was. It wasn't long before they had their own room. And Ryan and Spencer were both left alone.  
  
Spencer was glad to be alone in Chicago.  
  
***  
  
Ryan cornered Bren in the bus before the show. She had sulked for a while, been angry for a while, but then made up her mind: she needed a plan.  
  
"Bren, I need to talk to you. _Please._ " Bren paused in her packing and sorting. Mostly sorting. There was very little going into her bag.  
  
"What's up, Ry?" Bren chirped. She shoved her things to one side and flopped down on her bunk, motioning for Ryan to do the same. She did. Bren grinned and leaned toward Ryan conspiratorially. "Did you know," she said, "that after the show, Jon wants to take me home? To meet his mother! Can you imagine?"  
  
"Um. Wow," Ryan replied, somewhat put aback. Bren beamed at her. "I had no idea. Wow. You guys are, like--"  
  
" _Yeah_ ," Bren sighed. Ryan was dubious. It was all very romance novel all of a sudden. "What did you want to talk about?"  
  
"Sex."  
  
" _Really?_ " Bren practically purred. Ryan shifted away marginally. "Well, that's a first. Oh--hee," and she giggled at her own joke. Ryan groaned and rolled her eyes. Perhaps Bren was not her best choice in advisors. Then Bren drew in a startled breath. " _Oh my God!_ Did you--who was it? _Oh my God, you did it with Spencer?_ "  
  
Ryan glared.  
  
"Um, no."  
  
Bren squealed.  
  
"Then who? Tell me!"  
  
"Nobody. Yet." Bren stuck a finger in her mouth and frowned impatiently. "That's what I need to talk to you about..."  
  
"Uh, _yeah_ ,” Bren replied, as if Ryan was stupid and just needed a push in the right direction. “What's the problem? I thought Spence would be--"  
  
"What the _fuck_ , Bren? _Spence?_ "  
  
Bren made a horrified sound. “I just assumed…” Bren narrowed her eyes. "You tried something! What happened? _What did you do?_ "

Ryan slumped, as if she could hide from Bren and her questions. As if she could hide from herself.  
  
"He said no."  
  
" _He didn't!_ " Bren was scandalized. Ryan didn't bother to respond. "Oh, Ry..." Bren tried to hug her, but Ryan shied away. Bren's smile wilted.  
  
"I don't want your sympathy, Bren. I want your help."  
  
"Oh, I can help," Bren smirked. "With my help, you'll have Spence eating out of your hand."  
  
"It's not for Spence," Ryan said flatly. Bren looked skeptical. "I want Pete."  
  
Bren's shocked face was actually quite comical and Ryan couldn't help but to smile.  
  
"Pete," Bren said finally.  
  
"Do you think that's going to be a problem?" Ryan's note of sarcasm was not lost on Bren, and she scowled.  
  
"Not at all, if that's what you really want." Bren paused, waiting for a sign from Ryan. She just thrust out her chin stubbornly and pressed her lips together, so Bren continued. "The key to Pete is confidence. And a little T and A." Ryan rolled her eyes.  
  
"Look, Bren, maybe this isn't a good idea..."  
  
"Come on, Ry. You're talking to the woman who captured the elusive Jon Walker." Bren smiled knowingly and Ryan cringed. Bren laughed at her. "Compared to my Jonny, scoring Pete will be nothing! Oh, Ryan..." Bren squeezed Ryan suddenly, and hard. "I didn't mean--I'm sorry! Just because Pete is easy doesn't mean he isn't worth it. It's like, 50 million Elvis fans can't be wrong, right?"  
  
"God, you're an idiot."  
  
"Hey! You came to me!" Bren poked Ryan in the shoulder. "When did you want to get started?"  
  
"Now," said Ryan firmly.  
  
"Now?"  
  
"Did I stutter?"  
  
"Ok, tip [#1](http://www.livejournal.com/rsearch/?tags=%231): quit being such a bitch." Ryan huffed. "Seriously. There's a big difference between confident and bitchy. Get up." Bren pushed at Ryan until she climbed out of the bunk. "Turn around." Ryan arched a brow. "I need to see what we've got to work with here."  
  
"Bren, you see me every day," Ryan protested.  
  
"Yes, but I've never taken the time to check you out. Now spin." Ryan did. Bren made a sound of disgust. "No ass to speak of." Ryan peered over her shoulder until Bren motioned for her to continue. She was shaking her head when Ryan faced her again.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're not giving me much to work with, you know. You've seen Ashlee Simpson, right?"  
  
"What does she have to do with anything?" Ryan asked sullenly, hands on her hips.  
  
"She's a known quantity, Ryan. Pete went for that, now you want him to go for you. We're not exactly talking apples and apples, you know."  
  
"Why did I come to you, again?"  
  
"I'm the only girl you know. And the thought of going in blind scares the hell out of you or you would have done it ages ago when Pete was actually hitting on you."  
  
"He still does."  
  
"Not like he means it; he's just being polite. I get the same deal, and he knows about me and Jon."  
  
"Huh."  
  
"You need to get his attention again," Bren said.  
  
"How am I going to do that?"  
  
"Well..."  
  
Bren abandoned her packing in favor of searching for suitably slutty attire. They were forced to examine all of Ryan's pants for fit, with Bren thoroughly disgusted.

“I hate all your clothes,” Bren complained.

“This is news?”

“I’d lend you a pair of my pants, but they wouldn’t fit you. You’re built like a _boy!_ Have you even _hit_ puberty yet? Gah.” Bren trailed off, grumbling to herself. Then she snapped her fingers. “ _That’s it!_ We can totally make this work for you! It _is_ Pete, after all.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Ryan, how do you not know this? Pete’s sexual proclivities are known worldwide, let alone around the label. _Which we’re on._ Dude, I’m not even interested in Pete—aside from, you know, appreciating the aesthetic, but come on, this is common knowledge. Pete likes them young? Boys? Girls? _Whatever?_ Ringing a bell? Ryan, you’re like hitting the jackpot, what with that weird Ziggy Stardust androgynous thing you’ve got going on. You couldn’t have chosen any better.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Thank me after we’ve gotten you laid.”

[PART 3](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9321.html#cutid1)


	3. Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[tuesdaysgone](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

**TITLE:** Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)  
 **AUTHOR:** Cara ([](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ohnoscarlett**](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/) )  
 **RATING:** NC-17. There’s sex, folks. _Sex._  
 **PAIRING, IF ANY:** main, Spencer/Ryan; also, Jon/Bren  
 **POV:** third person limited  
 **SUMMARY:** Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** This is a work of fiction. _Obviously._  
 **NOTES:** Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[**tuesdaysgone**](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

 

“Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)”  
\- Tom Waits, Long Way Home

[PART 1](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/8707.html#cutid1)  
[PART 2](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9140.html#cutid1)  
  
Pete made it a point to see anyone on the label when they were in the same city, especially Chicago. Ryan knew this. She also knew that Chicago had a calming effect on Pete. That was something she could work with. Crazy, manic, touring Pete was a bit much.

When Ryan saw Pete and Andy out of the corner of her eye, hanging out on the sidestage, she smiled to herself. In the few seconds of passing guitars while Bren babbled between songs, Ryan even saw fit to enact Phase I of the plan: show some skin. Ryan took off her buttondown shirt. It was hot, she said to Zack when he looked at her questioningly. It’s not like she took her top off, for goodness sake. Ryan was still wearing a tank top, or a camisole, whatever it was; it rode up and left a wide strip of bare skin. It made her crazy, but Bren had insisted.

It seemed to be doing the trick. Ryan glanced past Jon and saw both Pete and Andy looking at her. Ryan grinned. Andy shot her a thumbs up. Ryan winked. Andy laughed. Pete looked vaguely predatory.

Ryan was pleased. It was almost too easy.

Ryan turned to adjust her guitar strap without the glare of stagelights in her eyes. There, on her side of the stage, were Patrick and Joe. They were talking, not paying her much mind. Now, Ryan may have been the world’s biggest fangirl over Pete Wentz back in the day—or, ok, maybe she still was—but Ryan fairly adored Patrick. He was sweet, and sort of charming in a socially awkward kind of way with which Ryan was achingly familiar. Plus, he could do anything. Patrick was The Man. And Ryan found herself blushing when he paused in his conversation and caught her looking. Then he smiled, and Ryan had a fleeting moment of doubt about her choice.

But then there was a muffled clatter from center stage and she was distracted.

Ryan could just see the flash of a pair of broken sticks, bright against the dark stage, slowly rolling back away from Spencer’s kit.

Ryan ignored him and turned back to her microphone. She didn’t see the looks exchanged by the members of the other band.

They had an excellent show, and Pete told them so when they came off stage. His bandmates agreed. They were all staying late at the venue for a post-show party. Ryan could see how torn Jon and Bren were. They so obviously wanted to stay and join the party, but they also badly wanted to get out of there. In the end they compromised, and only stayed a little while.

Spencer was nowhere in sight, which was probably for the best. He was probably talking to Patrick--which, also for the best, all things considered. Pete had been fairly glued to Ryan's side the entire evening and it made a warm feeling spread through her body. And she got all fluttery whenever Pete touched her or smiled at her, which, seriously, was a lot. She was such a _girl_ over Pete Wentz it was sickening. That could have been the other feeling in the pit of her belly, if she thought about it. Or nerves. Ryan really didn't want to think about it.

Ryan turned and looked closely at Pete. He was watching her, eyes dark. She stood and dragged Pete with her.

Ryan and Bren's dressing room was blessedly empty. And luckily for Ryan, Pete was a quick study. Pete wasted no time laying Ryan out on the narrow sofa and pressing himself against her. Ryan gasped and arched into him. She thrilled at the contact. She never let anyone... It had been so long since anyone had touched her. Ryan was ready. And Pete was making up for a lot of lost time.

They didn't even bother to take their clothes off. There would be time enough for that later. Pete's hands swept over Ryan's body while he ground his hips down against her. He was a mass of overwhelming sensations. Ryan could feel the muscles moving under his skin. His lips were surprisingly soft on her collarbone, her throat, her jaw, then her ear. His cock was hard as he thrust against her, pleasure sparking even through layers of clothes. He surprised her when he spoke, low and rough.

"I want to see you come, right here; just like this," accentuated with a particularly vicious thrust.

Ryan's eyes rolled back in her head, and Pete shuddered, digging his fingers into her hips.

The door opened just as Ryan cried out. Her voice mingled with Patrick's laughing, "Hey, Pete!"

Patrick immediately reversed and slammed the door closed.

Pete chuckled into the couch pillow.

"That happens far more often than it should," he said with a smirk.

"I really didn't need to know that," Ryan replied dryly. Pete propped himself up on one elbow.

"So, uh, do you want to go back to my place? I can guarantee that we won't be interrupted again."

"I don't think so," Ryan said, looking away. "This was a bad idea."

Ryan squirmed out from under Pete, leaving him sitting on the couch, plucking at his sticky jeans.

***

Ryan found herself back in her hotel room. She sat on the bed for a while, alone in the silence. She considered the television for a minute, but nixed it. Then Ryan got out her iPod and just looked at it, turning it over and over in her hands. She threw it down finally, irritated. Pete was a sure thing; she knew it, they both knew it. She had let him touch her; he had gotten her off. She had wanted him, badly, and she could have had him, let him take her home and fuck her seven ways to Sunday, pull out every trick he knew. And Pete knew a few, Ryan was sure of that. His reputation was deserved. But Ryan had refused him.

She couldn't figure it out.

It had all been going according to plan. Ryan wanted sex. She was ready for it. She chose Pete. She wanted him, had wanted him for years. _He was Pete Wentz, for goodness sake!_ Half the modern world was in love with Pete Wentz. She got him alone. She made him come in his pants. He wanted to have _actual sex_ with her. She had the means to achieve her goal! And she had said no.

She could _not_ figure it out.

Ryan jumped at the knock on her door. She frowned. It was late, and when had she become so high strung, anyway? There was another knock, so Ryan got up to check it.

Patrick stood smiling out from underneath his hat when Ryan opened the door.

She let him in without a word.

Patrick and Ryan stood in the middle of the room just looking at each other until Patrick blushed and looked at the floor. Ryan was charmed. Confused, but charmed all the same. Here he was, Patrick Stump, blushing like a schoolboy right in her hotel room.

"What can I do for you, Patrick?" Ryan asked, her lips twitching.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok," he said. "You took off out of there like a bat out of hell."

"I'm fine," Ryan replied, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "I didn't think anyone had noticed," she added softly.

"I--" Patrick cut himself off, considering. "Pete can come on kind of... strong, sometimes. But he wouldn't--if you weren't--I know he wouldn't--"

"It's ok, Patrick." Ryan stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on Patrick's arm. "Pete didn't."

Patrick visibly relaxed.

"Oh thank goodness," Patrick breathed out in a rush. Ryan laughed. "What?"

"You guys are so funny." Patrick squinted at her suspiciously. "Half of you are busy trying to protect my virtue," Patrick raised an eyebrow. "And the other half are busy trying to get into my pants."

Patrick kind of laughed and coughed. He crossed his arms over his chest and scuffed one shoe on the carpet. Ryan watched him.

"I'd say those two behaviors may not be mutually exclusive," he said finally.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ryan, you're like--I don't even know." Patrick scrubbed at his jaw. "I had to come make sure you were ok."

"You said that," Ryan interrupted.

"I had to come see if there was anything I could do," Patrick rounded on her, stepping in. "I had to see if I could--"

"Could what, Patrick?"

Patrick kissed her.

Apparently, when it rains, it pours in Ryan’s world. The plan had changed all on its own. She could roll with it. Patrick was definitely an acceptable alternative.

Patrick pushed Ryan gently until she backed up to the bed and sat. She looked up at him, seeing something she had never seen in Patrick’s eyes before. He looked at her like she was the only one in the world, like she was beautiful, like she was something precious. It was strangely familiar, and yet so unlike the Patrick she knew it drew a soft, startled sound from her throat. Patrick captured it in his mouth.

Patrick pulled away finally, and Ryan said his name, long and low and soft, barely a breath. He touched her cheek gently, two fingers slipping over her skin. Ryan’s eyes fell shut, and Patrick nudged her chin up with his thumb. He did it again, harder, and Ryan opened them again.

“I’m going to go,” he said.

“What? Why?” Ryan leaped to her feet, Patrick’s hand tangled in her hair. He smiled.

“I’m going to go home.”

“But you could st—“ Patrick silenced her with a finger on her lips. He shook his head briefly but then kissed her again.

“It’s late.” Patrick rested his forehead against Ryan’s and his breath ghosted across her damp mouth. Ryan shivered and Patrick laughed. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“We have an interview in the morning,” Ryan replied. A slow smile spread across Patrick’s face.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll come get you after.”

[PART 4](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9710.html#cutid1)


	4. Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[tuesdaysgone](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

**TITLE:** Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)  
 **AUTHOR:** Cara ([](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ohnoscarlett**](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/) )  
 **RATING:** NC-17. There’s sex, folks. _Sex._  
 **PAIRING, IF ANY:** main, Spencer/Ryan; also, Jon/Bren  
 **POV:** third person limited  
 **SUMMARY:** Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** This is a work of fiction. _Obviously._  
 **NOTES:** Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[**tuesdaysgone**](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

 

“Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)”  
\- Tom Waits, Long Way Home

[PART 1](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/8707.html#cutid1)   
[PART 2](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9140.html#cutid1)   
[PART 3](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9321.html#cutid1)   


Ryan must have slept, although it didn’t seem like she had. The beeping of the text alert on her phone woke her. Ryan fumbled and flipped until she saw the message.

_So?_ Bren. Of course.

_Long story_ , Ryan texted back. She had hardly pressed send before she heard poorly-muffled squealing on the other side of her door. Ryan didn’t even attempt to restrain the eye rolling. _Oh, Bren._

“Tell me about Jon’s mother,” Ryan said after she pried off Bren’s little monkey arms and wriggled away a safe distance. Bren sighed happily. Ryan did restrain the eye rolling.

“Oh, Ry, she’s— _she’s just like Jon!_ ”

“And this comes as a surprise to you?”

“Could you try to be nice for once?” Bren scowled briefly, but then regained her irritatingly dreamy expression. She popped out of her reverie with a bounce. “So. _Miss Long Story_. Tell it.”

Ryan did.

“ _You fucked Pete Wentz!_ ”

“I did not.”

“Close enough! _Oh my god!_ ” Bren crowed. “I didn’t think you had it in you!”

“Technically, I didn’t.”

“Oh, ha ha. You’re a comedian today. Keep going.”

“What?”

“I can tell you’re not done, Ryan.”

Ryan continued.

Bren fell off the bed.

“Wow.” Bren just sat on the floor.

“Yeah,” Ryan replied.

“Dude. Patrick. Now _that’s_ a goal.” Ryan looked at Bren crosswise. “Come on, Ry. Pete? Not a challenge. Patrick? He’s practically virginal himself. This will be fun,” and she rubbed her hands together in a way Ryan found altogether menacing.

“Who’s sleeping with him? You or me?” Ryan grumbled. Bren flapped her hands dismissively.

“We need a new strategy.”

Bren fussed over Ryan until Jon came to collect them for their interview.

***

They had the whole rest of the day off. Sure, they had to leave in the morning to go to Detroit, but they had the whole rest of the day after the interview free. It was rare. But it was also completely intentional. Going to Chicago was practically like returning to the mothership. And it was home for Jon. It was the least they could do to spend a little extra time there.

Ryan had just thrown down her things when there was a knock on the door. She picked up her phone and put it in her pocket. She pulled it out again as she opened the door. It was Patrick, of course. Patrick smiled brilliantly for a second before he dipped to hide behind his hat. Ryan was struck with the feeling that she was being charmed. Patrick was adorable and she just wanted to cuddle him. _Where the hell did that thought come from?_

“Do you want to go out?” he said.

Ryan got her stuff.

They essentially wandered downtown Chicago. They windowshopped. They got coffee. They walked around a lakeside park. They got more coffee, because Ryan had “thin blood”. They haunted the staff of various crappy music stores.

Ryan wondered if she was being courted.

“Patrick?” Ryan said finally. He looked up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Do you want to like…” _Date me?_ went unsaid, and Ryan paused. She couldn’t say it. Patrick searched her face.

“I think we should talk somewhere.”

_Oh shit_.

“Okay.” _Oh shit_. “Do you want to go back to my hotel? Or to your..?” Ryan gestured lamely. Patrick laughed.

“Let’s go back to your hotel; it’s closer. And my place here is desolate, and kind of a mess. It’s embarrassing.”

“It can’t be any worse than a tour bus, Patrick.”

“You’d be surprised.” Ryan laughed then, and turned back in the direction they came. She reached for Patrick’s hand to pull him along. He startled, but clasped her hand and smiled warmly.

_Tactical error_.

Patrick sat Ryan down on the couch in her hotel room and looked at her seriously until she squirmed.

“I’m leading you on, Patrick,” Ryan said, continuing quickly. “ _I didn’t mean to!_ ” He drew back a tiny fraction, and Ryan was heartbroken. _Oh, Patrick_. Ryan twisted her fingers. “It’s just—you’re amazing, all I could ever—and I _do!_ Oh my God!” Ryan pressed the heel of her hand into her eyes. “I’m babbling like an idiot, Patrick. Shut me up.”

“I think we want different things,” he said softly. Ryan’s head snapped up. “It’s ok. I had hoped… It’s ok.” Ryan looked away, digging her chin into her shoulder. “Everyone is half in love with you.” Ryan could hear the smile in his voice, but she couldn’t look. She couldn’t. “I’m… half in love with you, and I couldn’t _stand it_ that you went to Pete—“ Ryan squeezed her eyes shut, and she could hear Patrick trying not to grind his teeth. “I love Pete, I do, but he’s not—not for you, and if you couldn’t see who was, then I thought… I’d take a chance.” And he stopped. Ryan opened her eyes. Her head hurt from all the twisting and squeezing. Patrick just sat, looking forlornly at his hands in his lap. Ryan reached for his hand again.

“Oh, _Patrick_. I don’t know what my problem is anymore. Just add me to the list of stupid girls who blew their chance with Patrick Stump.” Patrick laughed, trying to stop himself, but Ryan joined him. “At least I have a good story. Knocked Bren’s socks off.” Patrick blushed furiously. Ryan reached out and stroked his cheek lightly. “Look how pretty you are. God, I’m an idiot.”

Patrick sat back and cleared his throat.

“I think—you can’t see the forest for the trees.” Ryan didn’t bother to respond. She quite clearly had no idea what Patrick was talking about. He sighed, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “Have you ever wondered, Ryan, why you’re not constantly fending off advances from half the guys on the label?”

“Because they’re all too busy hitting on Pete?” Ryan replied casually. Patrick snorted and needed several minutes of giggled _I’m sorry_ ’s to get it together. “It’s true, Patrick.”

“Um, yeah. But… otherwise.” He paused, obviously waiting for something from Ryan, but she said nothing. “We can _see…_ ”

[PART 5](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9912.html#cutid1)


	5. Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[tuesdaysgone](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

**TITLE:** Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)  
 **AUTHOR:** Cara ([](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ohnoscarlett**](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/) )  
 **RATING:** NC-17. There’s sex, folks. _Sex._  
 **PAIRING, IF ANY:** main, Spencer/Ryan; also, Jon/Bren  
 **POV:** third person limited  
 **SUMMARY:** Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** This is a work of fiction. _Obviously._  
 **NOTES:** Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[**tuesdaysgone**](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

 

“Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)”  
\- Tom Waits, Long Way Home

[PART 1](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/8707.html#cutid1)  
[PART 2](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9140.html#cutid1)  
[PART 3](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9321.html#cutid1)  
[PART 4](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9710.html#cutid1)  
  
Spence slept.

It was funny what he would come to appreciate. Between the constant go-go-go schedule, living on the bus, living practically in each other’s pockets, it was nice to just be able to sleep a little. In a bed that wasn’t moving. And had clean sheets.

He had gotten back late from the party. The party… _So_ not a good idea. He had been talking with Patrick. Not avoiding Ryan. Just talking with Patrick. Not watching Pete hang all over her. Just talking.

Spence wondered about Patrick. He had seemed just as (un)concerned with Ryan and Pete. And Spence could have taken that any number of ways. He chose to disregard them all in favor of discussing the finer points of Radiohead and the role of the internet and digital media.

Then Ryan and Pete disappeared. Spence tried not to freak out over his rum and coke. Patrick dragged him over to question Andy about their conversation. Andy merely waved them off in favor of local girls. Spencer approved, but it meant that he found himself following Patrick along dimly lit hallways, only half listening to what he had to say.

Of course, he had been paying attention enough to get an eyeful of Ryan and Pete on the couch in her dressing room.

Spence actually growled.

Patrick hadn’t seemed pleased with that development either.

Spence just went back and had another drink. Or three. Maybe.

Then he slept.

His presence had not been required at the morning interview. For that, Spencer was grateful. He was not in the mood for Bren, and Ryan… well, he’d have to see her eventually, but. Not now.

He twisted in his sheets. He just wanted to sleep, to not have to think, but every time he closed his eyes all he could see were inky hands on Ryan’s skin. A flash of dark eyes and smirking lips at her throat. And he could practically _smell_ them.

It infuriated him.

His fists slammed into the mattress, over and over. He itched to connect with something harder, but the last thing he needed was to hurt himself, and he would, if he started punching things. Spencer needed his hands to play. And Ryan would know, of course, if she saw.

So Spence rode out his tantrum. Because that’s what it was. He threw a tantrum because Ryan made good on her threat to find someone else. She had, and it had been _Pete_ , and with that, his Ryan was as good as gone. So he lay there, naked, twisted in the sheets, panting, and he was alone.

Spencer was not one for cold showers.

The hotel bathroom was steamy by the time Spence stepped under the spray. He had stood there at the sink, weight on his hands so the marble dug into his palms, fancying himself very Maverick; the sad, lonely hero who’d just lost his best friend—and the girl—and chose to display his angst to his reflection, lit prettily in the bathroom in his underwear. So what if he needed a haircut and preferred naked to white briefs? His life ran more toward soap opera than silver screen anyway.

The hot water made Spencer’s skin prickle. A good shower was another of the mundane things he now appreciated. Being clean, _really_ clean, was a rarity on the tour. At least now it was cooler and they weren’t sweaty from doing nothing. It took a show to get them really dirty this time of year. Spence could appreciate that. He didn’t care for the cold overmuch, but he was cleaner. He chose to focus on the things he could control, the things he could handle: clean sheets, a hot shower.

Jon was sitting on the foot of his bed when he emerged from the shower.

“ _Jesus_ , Walker, you’re lucky I stuck with the towel!” Jon just chuckled.

“Like I haven’t seen that needle dick of yours a hundred times this week.”

“Fuck you. What are you doing in here, anyway?” Spencer asked as he toweled his head. Jon flipped the keycard he held between his fingers, examining it. Spence tossed one towel back toward the bathroom and sat across from Jon, tucking his other towel snugly at his hip. He gestured questioningly.

“Bren thought I should talk to you.” Spence arched an eyebrow. “And I agreed with her.”

Spence yipped at him.

“I’m not a lapdog, Spencer. I’m your friend.” Spencer sniffed. “And Bren is your friend. And we were worried about you.”

“Why? I’m fine,” Spence said flatly. Jon sat back on his hands.

“Bren talked to Ryan this morning.” Spencer forced himself not to cringe.

“Yeah, so? Bren and Ryan talk a lot. Not exactly news.”

“You want news?” Jon asked. “Well, Ryan didn’t fuck Pete. _That’s news_.”

Spencer froze. He couldn’t feel his fingers and toes. And Jon just sat there looking at him.

“She didn’t?” he whispered, finally. Jon smiled a little and shook his head.

“No. She didn’t,” Jon reassured him. “But she’s out with Patrick right now, so I wouldn’t get too excited just yet.”

Spencer leaped out of his chair and yelled, actually startling Jon.

“ _She’s what?_ ” Spencer’s chair tumbled across the room to crash into the wall by the door. Jon gingerly pulled his feet up onto the bed. “That—that two-timing, double-crossing, underhanded, backstabbing, sneaky mother _fucker!_ If he even lays a _finger_ —if he even touches her I’m going to rip his fucking— _I’m going to kill him_.” Spencer was whirling.

Jon stood slowly and laid a tentative hand on Spencer’s arm. He turned his head and glared icily, but Jon’s grip held.

“Sit down.” Spencer did. “Breathe.” Spencer considered it. “Ryan is not going to sleep with Patrick.” Spencer crumpled into a heap on the bedspread.

Jon sighed. He allowed Spencer a moment to himself, then he silently moved across the room and slid the door open for Bren to come in.

***

Spence lay curled into Bren with his head in her lap. Bren, in turn, was half tucked in to Jon, who supported them both and kept Spencer’s towel from sliding off.

“I don’t want to see your junk,” Jon mumbled teasingly. Bren squealed and pinched him before tucking a lock of hair behind Spencer’s ear. Spence shook her off and stood to put on pants.

“Insurance, then,” Spencer said. Bren pouted.

“What if _I_ did?” Bren whined. Spence frowned at her and reclaimed his place on the bed. “I never get to see the goods,” she added, pitifully, petting his head.

“You had years of opportunity. Now you’re stuck with Walker. _Deal_ ,” Spencer replied, unsympathetically.

“No, you were always Ryan’s pretty jailbait boy,” Bren said softly. “And you know how territorial she is.” Jon stifled a snort into Bren’s shoulder. She patted his cheek and let the conversation stall. They settled into a companionable silence.

Spencer fell asleep.

Bren and Jon shared a look.

“It got a little hairy for a minute there.”

“I heard.”

“It’s all under control,” Jon returned.

“I know,” said Bren confidently, yet quietly, so as not to disturb Spencer.

Jon had gotten to Patrick.

Patrick understood.

[PART 6](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/10239.html#cutid1)


	6. Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[tuesdaysgone](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

**TITLE:** Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)  
 **AUTHOR:** Cara ([](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ohnoscarlett**](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/) )  
 **RATING:** NC-17. There’s sex, folks. _Sex._  
 **PAIRING, IF ANY:** main, Spencer/Ryan; also, Jon/Bren  
 **POV:** third person limited  
 **SUMMARY:** Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** This is a work of fiction. _Obviously._  
 **NOTES:** Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[**tuesdaysgone**](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

 

“Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)”  
\- Tom Waits, Long Way Home

[PART 1](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/8707.html#cutid1)   
[PART 2](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9140.html#cutid1)   
[PART 3](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9321.html#cutid1)   
[PART 4](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9710.html#cutid1)   
[PART 5](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9912.html#cutid1)   


Spencer woke to mid-afternoon sun filtering weakly through the drapes. Jon and Bren were gone, but he had hardly expected them to wait around for him to pull himself together. They had done their duty as his friends, and that was all he could ask.

Spencer stretched, muscles popping in protest. He needed to get up. Coffee. Coffee was always a good thing. He took a few moments to put on a shirt and a hoodie, and found shoes and socks. He debated the merits of a jacket, finally deciding to go without and brave the weather, as it were.

Spence thrust his wallet and his phone in his pockets and headed out the door.

Ryan sat slouched against the wall on the floor of the hall. She looked up at him through a fringe of hair, hesitantly, as if that slight barrier gave her some sort of protection. As if she needed it with him anyway.

“Coffee?” he asked simply.

“Sure,” she said.

Spence extended a hand to pull Ryan from the floor. She took it and stood. They walked to the Starbucks on the corner with their fingers still entwined; Ryan’s thumb tucked up against Spencer’s wrist under his sleeve.

“Jon’s is better,” Ryan said inanely, back in the elevator.

“He _worked_ at a Starbucks…” Spencer eyed her cautiously.

“He knows all their secrets,” she continued. “Theirs and all ours, apparently.”

_Well, damn._

“We don’t really have any secrets, Ryan.” Spencer opened his door and Ryan followed him in.

“Don’t we?” she set down her cup and watched him move about the room, shrugging out of his hoodie, stepping out of his shoes. She stood up straight and jutted out her chin, trying for confident. He had seen it a thousand times before. She chewed her lip, betraying her unease. He had seen that too.

“You’re being weird.” He climbed onto his bed and sat, tucking a foot underneath him, yet otherwise sprawling, taking up all the space he could.

Ryan slumped into a chair, almost upsetting her coffee. She grasped it in both hands, huddling down and practically sticking her nose in the cup. She wouldn’t look at Spencer.

“I’ve had a really… enlightening couple of days.” Spence made a noncommittal noise and rolled onto his belly to stare out the window. He peered into his cup instead. _Tell me about it_. “Spence,” she started, and stopped. “Spence, I’ve missed you.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere. Neither have you, not really.” Lyrics inexplicably popped into his head, and Spencer snorted into his coffee cup. _You can’t be missed if you never go away._

“Cobra Starship?” Ryan asked with a grin. Spencer nodded.

“We really need to start listening to bands off our label and not related to us in any way,” he said dryly.

“What fun would that be?” Ryan set down her cup and stood, crossing the small space. She sat on the edge of the bed, carefully not touching Spencer at all. “How could I always know what you’re thinking? Finish your sentences…”

“You don’t do either of those things.” He looked over his shoulder at her for a moment, almost accusingly, before turning away to gaze at nothing in particular.

“Not out loud,” Ryan said, eyes downcast. One hand bunching the coverlet under her knee, and the other, the other reaching out to trace an invisible line down Spencer’s back. He shivered. His shoulders tensed, and he clutched his paper coffee cup hard enough to make him wonder if it was still hot enough to burn him, should he spill it. “ _Spence_ ,” Ryan breathed, cracked and broken. He put his cup on the floor.

Spencer turned and half rolled over to look back at Ryan. She looked—afraid. Spencer sat up and reached for his friend. That she would ever make a face like that. That she would ever feel like that… He couldn’t bear it. He gripped her forearm, and her wrist, what he could reach.

“What’s wrong, Ry?” He searched her face intently.

“I thought I lost you, Spence,” she said, and broke free of his grip, throwing her arms around his neck. Spencer just kind of sat there, frozen. Ryan usually wasn’t one for overt displays. It was freaky.

But she tucked her head into his neck and heaved a shuddering sigh. And it broke something in him. Voluntary motion returned to his limbs and he found himself absently patting Ryan’s back. She shifted, and he settled her into his lap, still clinging.

“It’s alright, Ry, come on.” Spencer squeezed her gently and rocked them a little. “I’m not going anywhere. Why would I? Come on. Come on, hey.” Ryan sighed again wearily and nuzzled under his jaw.

“ _Oh, Spence_.” Her breath was hot on his skin and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. She was sitting in his lap, even if she _was_ miserable, lonely, and depressed. He was pathetic. Even more so if his internal monologue started going all Disney movie on him. “Spence.”

“Hmm?” He distinctly felt the press of lips against the curve of his jaw. And then again, a fraction back, closer to the soft spot behind his ear. And again.

Spencer forced himself to continue breathing.

He was less than successful when Ryan’s teeth closed on his ear. He couldn’t even categorize the sort of sound he made. It was somewhere between a whimper and a gasp, but he couldn’t bring himself to care because Ryan’s hands were tangled in his hair, and her mouth was on his skin, and his brain really wasn’t working very well. He knew he shouldn’t let her… but he really didn’t care.

Ryan was murmuring, “ _Spence, Spence_ ,” into his skin as she kissed and nipped and pressed her nose under his ear. He could hardly handle it. Finally he just tipped them over and rolled until she lay on the bed and he was propped up over her. She looked up at him with wide, clear eyes.

“Ryan, why are you doing this to me? Do you have any _idea…_ ” he trailed off, letting his head droop so he didn’t have to see the look on Ryan’s face. She reached up, pressing a cool palm to his cheek and forcing him to look at her again.

“I’m an idiot, Spence. I know. I _know_ , and all I needed was just a push in the right direction. I needed to open my eyes, and _see_ , see what was right there. And that was _you_. It’s always been you, Spence.” She blushed and glanced away, her hand slipping down to his shoulder. “God, that’s the girliest thing that’s ever come out of my mouth.”

Spencer laughed and dropped down to kiss her.

The press of lips was gentle, and yet almost immediately Ryan opened to him. Spencer’s gut clenched and he moaned into her mouth. Her tongue swept hotly against his, and he jerked.

“ _Jesus_ , Ryan,” he panted. He could feel the shape of her smirk against his skin.

“Stop. Talking.”

“Yeah, ok.” It was Ryan’s turn to laugh.

She stopped laughing when Spencer bit at her collarbone, then trailed up her neck with a path of tiny kisses. She gasped when he pressed his body down harder, just a fraction, before kissing her again on the mouth, firmly. Ryan’s hands twisted in his shirt and brought him even closer. He bit her lip and groaned, and Ryan’s hips bucked all on their own. Her eyes flew open— _when had they closed?_ And she threw her head back. Spencer kissed her neck, and licked, and made her shiver. He ground his hips down, tentatively, and she shuddered.

“Oh God, Spence!” Her nails scraped his side as she tugged viciously on the wads of fabric clutched in her hands.

“We can’t—not too fast, Ry,” he said, and she furrowed her brows. “ _Not too fast_ ,” he repeated, breath in her ear. “It’s taken so long, we can—it has to be perfect. We can do other things… first.” He thrust shallowly against her hip. “Wait, _wait_ ,” he said, low. “Let’s not rush it; do it right.”

“Do it right,” Ryan said dubiously.

“Yes.” The sound was low and deep and vibrated through her bones. “ _Yes_.”

_Yes_.

Ryan had Spence, and she could do—would do—whatever he wanted. She knew that the same was true for him. And he was right. They should take their time.

Ryan’s hands had a mind of their own.

She tugged and twisted until Spencer raised himself to his knees and let her drag his t-shirt over his head. Her hands slipped over the smooth planes of his skin, bringing goosebumps even though the room was warm. Ryan had probably touched him a million times over the years, but never like this. Skin on miles and miles of skin. He wasted no time in pulling away layers of fleece and cotton, exposing _her_ skin, so _he_ could touch.

So he could make _her_ shiver.

Spencer paused when he got to lingerie. He had asked Ryan to take it slow, and she had agreed. _Was half naked too fast?_ But she answered the question for him, batting his hands away and deftly flicking open the clasp on her bra.

“ _There_ ,” she said as she flung it across the room.

Spencer just kind of sat there. He was overloaded. Here he was, with his best friend, _who just happened to be half naked, and lying there, and waiting for him to touch her._ He really didn’t know what to do with himself. Ryan tossed her head, getting hair out of her face, and smiled at him. Then she gripped his arms and tugged until he got the picture and sunk down again, pressing their bodies together. _Skin_.

Ryan’s slim fingers skimmed up, to his shoulders, his neck, to plunge and tangle in his hair. She wrenched his head down to meet her, fiercely. Well, it might take her a while to figure something out, but once she did, Ryan went for it with all she had. Spencer really wasn’t complaining. He was just having something of a hard time reconciling the fact that he was now able, nay, _encouraged_ , to touch Ryan. They had been friends for a very long time. And he was nothing if not a good friend.

Spencer shifted his weight to one arm and gently stroked Ryan’s side, fingers dangerously close to heretofore forbidden territory. Ryan would have brained him for trying to cop a feel; she actually _had_ punched him in the face once, really hard, and that grope had been completely accidental. May even have been Bren’s fault. But Ryan actually leaned into his touch. He felt confident that she wasn’t suddenly going to have a change of heart and end up cracking his skull with a lamp.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Ryan said, mouth pressed wetly against his cheekbone. It made Spence pull back a bit, shake his head. Ryan just grinned wickedly at him. “ _You’re thinking too hard_ ,” she said again. “I think I need to make you stop that.”

Ryan’s hands took a quick tour of his body. They reversed, and slid back down his arms, then up his chest, where she tweaked a nipple, making him hiss and jerk. She just laughed and kissed him again. It was distracting. Spence didn’t know whether to focus on her mouth, or her hands, or the way her legs were shifting around, or the feel of her skin under his hand and the way her ribs expanded when she breathed. He almost didn’t notice when Ryan’s hands stopped at the waistband of his pants.

Almost.

“Oh, no no,” he breathed out, quickly, shifting his hips back. Ryan frowned prettily.

“Why not?” And she popped the button while he was trying to figure out a good reason. She gingerly tucked her fingers under the fabric, tracing the lines of Spencer’s hip bones. He groaned, and she got bolder, sliding soft calloused hands down and down and down. Then she stopped, eyebrows raised so high he couldn’t even see them through her hair. Spencer blushed. “You dirty boy, Spencer Smith!”

Spencer blushed even harder.

“I was in a hurry.”

“Uh huh,” Ryan said doubtfully.

“Bren and Jon…”

“Hmmm. I don’t care. You can go commando whenever you want.” Ryan grinned. And continued to feel Spencer up.

[PART 7](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/10468.html#cutid1)


	7. Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[tuesdaysgone](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

**TITLE:** Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)  
 **AUTHOR:** Cara ([](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ohnoscarlett**](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/) )  
 **RATING:** NC-17. There’s sex, folks. _Sex._  
 **PAIRING, IF ANY:** main, Spencer/Ryan; also, Jon/Bren  
 **POV:** third person limited  
 **SUMMARY:** Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** This is a work of fiction. _Obviously._  
 **NOTES:** Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[**tuesdaysgone**](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

 

“Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)”  
\- Tom Waits, Long Way Home

[PART 1](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/8707.html#cutid1)   
[PART 2](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9140.html#cutid1)   
[PART 3](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9321.html#cutid1)   
[PART 4](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9710.html#cutid1)   
[PART 5](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9912.html#cutid1)   
[PART 6](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/10239.html#cutid1)   


It was getting dark when Spencer finally peeled himself off of Ryan. He had to pee. He had drunk a rather large cup of coffee, after all. Ryan stood fidgeting outside the bathroom door when he emerged. Same deal.

The clock on the bedside table told him that they had to start getting ready to leave. Spencer only had a few things out, but he had no idea what state Ryan’s room was in. He quickly collected a hoodie and some stray socks and was zipping his bag closed as Ryan came out of the bathroom, smoothing down her shirt. She glanced up at him, smiling, and blushed faintly.

“Hi,” she said softly. Spencer stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his hip.

“You know what I can do now?” he asked, a grin playing at his lips. Ryan shook her head silently. Spence let the grin form and took three big steps toward Ryan. She just watched him, with a moderately confused look on her face, her fingers still tugging on the hem of her shirt. He closed the distance between them and gently grasped Ryan’s arms, holding her still before he kissed her. It started soft, tender, and Spencer slipped his hands to Ryan’s waist just as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Ryan let out a quiet, “ _oh_ ,” and it quickened.

Spencer licked into Ryan’s mouth and she arched, pressing herself against him. He stumbled somehow, and they ended up tumbling against the wall. Spence reached down to palm Ryan’s ass and hitch her up higher, and she gasped into his mouth. He thought he was hearing things when the sound echoed across the room.

So he looked.

Bren and Jon stood in the open doorway.

Spencer blushed furiously, and Ryan practically had a seizure. She actually kicked and clawed and didn’t settle until Spencer actually pulled her back into his arms and squeezed her and said, “It’s alright. It’s just Jon and Bren. Nothing’s wrong; you’re ok.”

Jon and Bren just stood in the doorway together and smiled.

***

Sometimes Ryan just needed to be slapped in the face with the obvious. Sometimes it stung, though. That _Patrick_ had to tell her about Spence. _Patrick_. He wasn’t even in their band. He rarely saw them. And yet… He could see it. Ryan was blind. Or—what about Jon? And Bren? Why hadn’t either of them ever—oh, _wait_. Bren was always dropping some subtle hint about Spencer. Or not-so-subtle, which was usually the case with Bren. Ryan had always just ignored her.

Huh.

Ryan sat on the couch on the bus, book open in her lap but not reading it. Bren was curled up next to her, personal space be damned. She was quiet, but Ryan could feel the energy coming off of her in waves; she was vibrating. Ryan looked over at her, and Bren smiled; brilliantly, vibrantly, _pleased_.

“What?” Bren just grinned harder and sort of tickle-poked her in the side. “Seriously.”

“So you, uh…” Bren’s eyebrows arched delicately and she smirked. “Finally figured out what I’ve been trying to tell you for _years?_ ” Ryan shoved at her. Bren just giggled and bounced to her knees. “Come on! Spence is _hot!_ And he’s hot for _you!_ That’s _awesome!_ Isn’t that awesome?”

“You’re embarrassing. I don’t know how Jon puts up with you.”

“Jon fucking loves it. And Jon loves what I can do with my mouth, so that goes a long way. Speaking of which…” Bren’s smirk turned feral.

“Oh _no_. No, we’re not. We’re not doing a blow-by-blow here.” Ryan shook her head vehemently.

“ _Oh my god! There was blowing?_ ”

“No! No, there wasn’t! God, Bren!” Ryan practically screeched. Bren rolled back on the couch giggling and clutching her sides. Ryan drew up her feet and kicked her. Bren fell off the couch and grunted but didn’t stop laughing. “I hate you.”

“I love you guys _so much_.” Ryan stalked off to the bunks. “So much.”

Ryan could hear Jon snoring softly from his bunk and the soft tapping of Spencer texting someone from his. She peeked around his curtain, ready to move on if he was busy. But Spence nodded silently as he typed, so she climbed in, fitting herself under his arm.

Ryan lay down carefully next to Spencer and slipped her arm around his waist. He squeezed her lightly and continued to type. She wanted to ask who he was talking to, but didn’t.

“My mom,” he said quietly. Ryan smiled into his shirt.

“Are you reading my mind now?” His chest jumped in a huff of silent laughter.

“No. You just always ask who’s on the phone, and you weren’t asking, so I figured I’d answer you anyway.”

“How is she?” Ryan asked tenderly. She would always have a soft spot for Spencer’s mom.

“Girls are making her crazy,” he replied, laughter in his voice. It made something clench in Ryan’s chest. Spencer’s sisters. They spent so much time pointedly avoiding the little demons, but now she missed them, sort of.

Spence typed furiously for a few more minutes, then flung his phone toward the end of his bunk.

“Done,” he stated matter-of-factly, rolling onto his side and drawing Ryan in close. Ryan sighed and let herself be cuddled. She took a deep breath and drew in Spencer’s scent. He smelled fantastic; clean, and something else, and she knew it was rare, rare that any of them smelled anything other than completely disgusting. She smiled against his shoulder and relaxed, settling in for a nap.

[PART 8](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/10712.html#cutid1)


	8. Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[tuesdaysgone](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[kueble](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

**TITLE:** Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)  
 **AUTHOR:** Cara ([](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/profile)[ **ohnoscarlett**](http://ohnoscarlett.livejournal.com/) )  
 **RATING:** NC-17. There’s sex, folks. _Sex._  
 **PAIRING, IF ANY:** main, Spencer/Ryan; also, Jon/Bren  
 **POV:** third person limited  
 **SUMMARY:** Ryan is a girl with some issues, but she knows what she wants. Pretty much. Spencer really doesn’t know what to do with that.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** This is a work of fiction. _Obviously._  
 **NOTES:** Genderswap of the always-been-a-girl variety. Beta by [](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/profile)[**tuesdaysgone**](http://tuesdaysgone.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](http://kueble.livejournal.com/).

 

“Forgive me pretty baby (but I always take the long way home)”  
\- Tom Waits, Long Way Home

[PART 1](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/8707.html#cutid1)   
[PART 2](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9140.html#cutid1)   
[PART 3](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9321.html#cutid1)   
[PART 4](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9710.html#cutid1)   
[PART 5](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/9912.html#cutid1)   
[PART 6](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/10239.html#cutid1)   
[PART 7](http://caras-fic.livejournal.com/10468.html#cutid1)   


Spencer was a touch anxious after the show. It had nothing to do with the show. It was unusual these days for something serious to go wrong with something in the show. They had good techs, and everybody knew what they were doing. It wasn’t a problem.

No, he was anxious about the night on the bus.

Jon had slyly mentioned that he would keep Bren occupied in the front lounge if Spencer wanted the back. The back lounge. Spencer barely repressed a shudder. The back lounge was where people went when they wanted to get laid. Brent had taken a girl or two back there. Bren and Jon practically set up camp back there. People who were not even in their band went to the back lounge to get laid. Spence tried to avoid it unless all four of them were back there playing video games or something. It had an atmosphere to it. It freaked him out.

Spencer hesitated at the lounge entrance. _It was just a room._ He looked around, really taking stock, and wondered what he could do until Ryan got there. He stood in the middle of the room, shifting from foot to foot until he finally just gave up and lit three candles that Bren had left on the ledge behind one of the sofas.

“Nice touch.”

Spencer whirled around to find Ryan standing in the doorway. He dropped the lighter he had been holding, and she smiled, dropping her gaze.

“Come here,” he said, and it _sounded_ confident. At least he sounded confident. His hands were sweaty, and his scalp itched, and if he really thought about it he probably could go vomit without much of a problem. But Ryan stepped into his arms with no prelude, pressing her cheek against his chest, her eyes slipping closed as she took a deep breath and let it out as a soft sigh.

Spencer tipped Ryan’s chin up and kissed her as she opened her eyes. They sparkled, actually _sparkled_ , and it drew a low groan from Spencer because it was for _him_. It wasn’t like Ryan never showed emotion, wasn’t ever happy, but that look. She was happy, and it made her even more beautiful, and it was _because of him_ , and he was happy if they never left the back lounge.

***

Spencer threw an arm over his eyes when Ryan slid off the sofa to kneel on the floor. She wasted no time arranging herself, and he could hear her trying to steady her breath even as her hands tugged gently at his clothes. He just couldn’t watch. He would lose it. He couldn’t watch as Ryan took him into her mouth.

As it was, it was over far too quickly anyway.

“ _Ryan!_ ” Spencer gasped. “Ryan, I’m—I can’t—Ryan, _please_ , I—“ And his hips bucked, hard. Ryan sat back slightly, both hands still occupied; one pressed firmly, yet ineffectively, against Spencer’s hip, the other still working his cock. He could feel her breath on his damp skin, she was that close to him, still. And he was close too. It was the sound and the feeling of her taking a deep breath, ready to continue, to take him in again, that sent him over the edge.

His back arched almost painfully as he came hard over Ryan’s fingers with a muffled cry.

It was less than muffled when he cried out again a second later, upset candles spilling hot wax onto his arm and the sofa. Ryan leapt to her feet, casting about desperately for something, and latching onto a throw pillow to bash at the candles.

Luckily, the sofa was only a bit singed. The sofa, and Spencer’s pride. But he let Ryan take his arm and silently pick off the wax.

***

“Well, that was less than successful,” Spencer said later, as he and Jon sat in the front watching a movie.

Jon snorted.

“Did you get off?” he asked baldly, not even glancing away from the screen. Spencer merely blinked at him. “Did she?” Spence looked away, fighting a blush. “You’re such a girl,” Jon mumbled. Then, louder, “I’d say you’re fine. Orgasms are a good thing, even if you set the bus on fire. Which—don’t, please.”

“We didn’t set the bus on fire,” Spencer grumbled.

“Tell that to the couch.”

***

Ryan lay gasping on the hotel bed, Spencer’s head pillowed on her thigh. She could feel the curve of his lips as he smiled against her skin, pleased with himself. She was pretty pleased with him too, truth be told. Her skin was buzzing.

“Spence,” she began. His eyes flicked up to hers and he hummed. She smiled and petted his head, her fingers carding through his hair. He leaned into it, eyes dropping shut contentedly. “There are condoms in my bag.” His eyes popped open. He didn’t move other than that, but Ryan could feel him tense up. “Bren put them there, I think. She left a note.”

“Yeah?”

“It said—do you want to know what it said?” she asked. Spencer merely hummed again noncommittally. “It said, ‘Hope you like cherry flavored!’”

Spencer laughed, his body shaking, until Ryan joined him, throwing her head back with abandon. Her throaty laugh bounced off the walls. Spencer crawled up her body and nuzzled under her chin, settling along beside her.

“I really hope they aren’t,” he said.

“They’re not,” Ryan assured him. “It’s just Bren. Being… Bren.”

“Ick.”

“Yeah.” Ryan snickered softly. Bren was a twisted little shit.

They simply lay there for a long while.

“So,” Ryan continued. Spencer rubbed his chin along her shoulder; he was scratchy with stubble. He had shaved again, and looked so much younger. Ryan almost mourned his beard. With it, she could imagine he was older, and not _her_ Spencer, the child Spencer she had known. He was just so _pretty_ clean-shaven. Nothing to distract from his big blue eyes and wide mouth. “Do you want to?” she finally said.

“Hmm?”

“ _Spence_ ,” Ryan cautioned. Spencer cleared his throat.

“Yes?” She could hear his hesitation, how he made it a question as well as an answer. Clearly. He cleared his throat again and spoke into her shoulder. “Yes. I do. _A lot_. But…”

“ _But?_ ” Ryan interrupted incredulously. Spencer rolled away from her, his head thumping back onto the pillow.

“There’s kind of a lot of pressure here, Ry!” The whine was clear in his voice, and Ryan could see him grimace as she turned to face him. Her head tilted thoughtfully as she considered him, her pretty boy, and she stroked his face lightly, gently, with the tips of her fingers.

“What’s the matter, Spence? I don’t understand.” She paused, and his eyes flicked toward her and away, quickly. His chin tilted just barely. She thought that _maybe…_ “I love you, Spencer; you know that, right?” He propped himself up on an elbow.

“Of course,” he replied softly. He bent until their foreheads touched and his eyes slipped shut. He spoke so low she could barely hear him when he went on. “I know. I love you, too.” Spencer sighed. “It’s just… I—I _know_. I know how it is for you. I know, because…”

Ryan drew in a sharp breath.

“Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?” she asked, confused. He didn’t respond. “ _But how?_ What about Katie Gilman in tenth grade? What about Carrie Fuller? Jessie Waterman? Angela… whatshername?” Spencer just shook his head. Ryan gasped and whispered harshly. “ _What about Hailey?_ You were with her _forever_.”

Spencer’s head merely continued to shake.

“Seems like you remember my girlfriends practically better than I do,” he said finally.

“Well, you’re my best friend; of course I know who’s coming around!” Ryan could hear herself getting defensive and stopped. “Guess now I know why they stopped, too.” Spencer huffed out a short laugh.

“Yeah, ‘cause I don’t put out.” His delivery was so serious Ryan couldn’t help the giggles that slipped out.

“Why not?”

“You.” Ryan clamped her mouth shut. “It’s always been you.” He brought his hands up to cup her face and rested their heads together again. “It’s just been so long. It’s a really hard habit to break…”

Ryan smiled.

“You can now,” she said.

And she kissed him, softly, gently, like she knew he liked to start out, as if in greeting. But it never lasted, deteriorating quickly into a frenzy of wet mouths and tangling tongues, panting breaths. Hands scrabbling for purchase, or stroking deliberately and torturously.

Ryan was a quivering mess when she finally gritted out a “ _Spence, please_ ” and he stopped touching her long enough to pull the box of condoms out of her bag. They must have indeed been placed there by Bren, for there were brightly colored smiley face stickers holding back remnants of a piece of paper; the note. He opened it with shaking hands, Ryan watching him coolly.

It is no pretty procedure, putting on a condom, especially for the first time. Spencer knelt between Ryan’s thighs, and she watched him. Her hands itched to help, to touch him, but she really didn’t want to freak him out any more than he already was. She probably wouldn’t be of much help anyway, all things considered. But then Spencer ran a hand down his length, smearing the tiny bit of pre-applied lubrication with a shocked grimace. Ryan smirked and scrambled to retrieve the equally tiny bottle of lube that Bren had provided. It had had a bow. A red bow. Ryan had been mortified.

Apparently, so was Spence.

“ _What--?_ ” he squawked. His grip tightened and his face paled. Ryan sat up a little and kissed Spencer reassuringly as she dripped the gel across her fingers.

“Apparently it goes better, if…” she said against his lips, and she stroked him, spreading the lube quickly, before she lost her nerve. Before he lost his. “You kind of rubbed off most of what they give you,” she added, twisting her wrist until Spencer gasped.

He pushed her hands away gently and urged her back with kisses. Ryan lay on the bed and Spencer followed her down, their bodies pressing together. His cock bumped wetly against her thigh, and he jumped, blushing faintly before dipping his head again to kiss her, slipping his fingers between her legs to tease her clit and test her one last time. His fingers slid easily.

“ _You’re so wet_ ,” he breathed against her ear. Ryan could feel herself blushing, her whole body hot.

“For you. Spence! _Come on_ ,” she grasped his wrist and tugged, leading their hands back to guide him into her together, finally. Ryan jerked a little as the head of Spencer’s cock pressed and slid. Ryan’s hands fluttered for a moment before coming to rest on his straining upper arms. He eased in slowly, his breathing harsh, and they both gasped sharply when he ended up sheathed completely inside her.

_Wow._

They just looked at one another, matching shocked expressions on their faces. Until Spencer’s grin overtook him. Ryan couldn’t help but smile back at him, her beautiful boy. He bent to kiss her. And then he started to move.

Wow.

***

Ryan woke in the middle of the night. Spencer was draped across three-quarters of the bed, snoring softly. He looked content, and the thought made her smile.

Ryan thought the room itself smelled of sex. It was probably just Spencer. And herself. She could smell him all over her, and it made her squirm deliciously. The squirming, in turn, drew her attention to sore muscles and the faint ache between her legs. Ryan reached down, touching gently. She was fine. She would be fine in the morning. Nothing was hurting, and there hadn’t been any blood. _Bodice ripper romance novels be damned_. Well, not that Ryan had expected… between what she knew already and what advice she had gotten from Bren (solicited or no,) Ryan had figured she wasn’t in for anything particularly disturbing. Besides, Spencer had been gentle.

She was still astounded that he hadn’t… That he had waited for her.

“I’m glad it was you,” Ryan whispered into the darkness.

“Me too.” Ryan startled. Spencer’s eyes glittered at her, where they hadn’t just a moment before. He blinked sleepily and grinned, a slow, wide smile that made Ryan’s breath catch in her throat and her aches seem more acute. He reached across the gap between them and brushed the hair away from her face before slipping a rough hand around her waist and pulling her close. Ryan went easily into his arms, snuggling down against his soft skin with a sigh. It was so much the same as it had always been between them. Just now with the added naked. And she felt like she could really let him in. With Spencer she didn’t have to be afraid. She should have known. With Spencer she had never been afraid.


End file.
